


trust your heart (if the seas catch fire)

by Gildedstorm



Series: make a fury of me [8]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, a much needed reaction to the rishi mission, platonic fluff and comfort, with appearances from the rest of the crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 23:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedstorm/pseuds/Gildedstorm
Summary: Rkorya is no stranger to duty, no matter how difficult. When the Emperor who named her his Wrath threatens all she lives for, what must be done is simple, certain and entirely impossible. She accepts this, and prepares to set on a new path alone.It doesn't occur to her that those she loves might disagree.





	trust your heart (if the seas catch fire)

**Author's Note:**

> a companion and something of a sequel to [a fool and a throne](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10406853)! it's really heartening to write about the same event later on and find out how much my style has improved and grown
> 
> this started out as "I want vette and rkorya to hug and it'll be sweet and great" and somehow 2k words later it... changed somewhat

It’s difficult to dismiss how much _safer_ it feels, to set foot on the ship again. She’s long since tired of Rishi’s damp heat, the too-bright sun and the sprawling, rotten docks, the salt stinging healing wounds and bands of outlaws all too ready to try to make new ones. At least now she’s done with the masquerade of being a _pirate_ , but that feels like a small reprieve for everything that she’s been through.

Everything that she’s _learned_.

“It’s about _time_ ,” Vette says, hands on her hips and brow furrowed in a passable imitation of annoyance, but her lekku twitch in what is undeniably glad relief. “I wondered if we’d have to pry you away from that secret base.”

“Welcome back, my lord,” Quinn says, only a beat behind. “Vette exaggerates – we only suspected we might have to ask insistently.”

It’s the sort of dry humour she’s come to appreciate from him, well within the lines of acceptable to a superior but a joke nonetheless. She’s _missed_ this, missed them. Working with Lana, Jakarro and Theron has been enjoyable, surprisingly so given their mess of allegiances, but they each have their own ambitions, their own goals to follow. She doesn’t know them nearly as well, and what trust they’ve earned is shallow compared to the faith she puts in her crew.

“Then it’s good I decided to return when I did, and spare you the trouble. You’ve all behaved reasonably well in my absence?”

“Reasonable may be too much to hope for, even with Vette off of the ship most of the time,” he murmurs, admirably stoic as Vette grins at him, not even willing to seem offended.

“Don’t worry, my lord, we weren’t about to go off our orders,” Pierce adds, the reassurance gruffly sincere, until he proceeds to ruin it. “Though we _do_ think Broonmark ate someone last time we stopped in for supplies.”

The Talz warbles at that, easily goaded as always. <We did not eat anyone! We did not even hunt without permission, not _once_. >

“It might have been more interesting if he had,” Jaesa says. “You have no idea how much more boring it is without you around, master. And if I’d wanted to be in charge of a crew, it wouldn’t be _this_ one. You can keep them.” She tilts her head, smiles faintly – a fond expression, so soft that Rkorya is always a little surprised when she sees it. “And me.”

She expected to be missed, but not something like this – it warms her, and she lets them see it, smiling in return. “Good, since I didn’t plan otherwise.” The dread that she’s been carrying around for days now, that has nothing to do with Revan and everything to do with her own choices, seems to have lost its edge. She is back where she belongs, with her people.

Whatever comes, she will be able to face it.

That is the idea, at least, and yet she abandons her quarters to pace the length of the ship when the others have turned in, lulled by a longer trip back to Vaiken and a few days docked before heading on to Yavin 4. Moving doesn’t help much, but it’s better than trying to rest. On Rishi, it was easier to deal with – if nothing else, she could find slavers and outlaws willing to get in her way on short notice, but on the ship, she has nothing to do. So she walks.

On her third trip through the halls, Vette slips out to meet her. “I _thought_ so,” she says, voice pitched to not carry back to the rest of the crew. For someone so frequently loud, she’s quite skilled at being as quiet as needed. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

Even here, her first instinct is to deny it, not admit to what might be a weakness. “Of course I’ve been sleeping. I’m restless – much has happened.” Unwilling to have a discussion right in front of the sleeping quarters – fending off Jaesa and Vette at the same time would be impossible – she turns on her heel, Vette falling into step beside her.

“I’m not talking about just now. You weren’t sleeping back on Rishi, either.” When this doesn’t get her an immediate reaction, she stubbornly keeps going. “Theron told me that you’ve just been napping for the last few days, and acting like nothing’s wrong.”

“ _Theron_ told you? Somehow, I’m not surprised that it’s the Republic agent who’s willing to give up information about me,” she says, the thought of him paying such close attention rankling. They had all been pushing themselves as the stakes rose. She had hoped her actions would go unnoticed.

“I _may_ have bribed him just a little to get him to spill. Anyways, I’ve _seen_ you restless, remember? When we were finally getting close to Baras, and when Malgus tried to take over, and on Makeb, and _you_ were the one nagging us to get enough sleep, even when the planet was going to explode. This isn’t you being restless, it’s you being _worried_ , and honestly – I didn’t think up till now you worried about anything ever.” She pauses – probably to take a breath, knowing her – and Rkorya looks away, knowing she doesn’t have the strength to deny it. “And you being worried? Definitely worries _me_. So I know you prefer to just stab your problems until they go away, but if this one is this big, I think it’s worth... talking about. Just this once.”

She’s dismayed at how well Vette knows her, after all this time. Her breath hitches in her throat for a moment before she lets it out. She’s right, of course. She often is, these days.

“I met with Vowrawn,” Rkorya admits, crossing her arms. “He warned me of droids spying on my actions, kept hidden by the Force. When I lured them out into the open, they were....” Even now, it’s difficult to say. She breaks off with a grimace, starts again. Better to be direct. “They served the Emperor. What they said when I confronted them....”

Again, she falters, and grips her forearms hard, trying to draw clarity from the pressure. No, not just clarity; courage. “The Emperor wants to bring an end to this. To the Empire. To _everything_. He has a plan upon his return, and I was not meant to know it. Do you understand?”

She does, of course. Vette stares at her, eyes widening. “Well, _fuck_.”

“The Hand was on Rishi as well.” It’s easier to speak now that the impossible truth is out. She moves forward because there is no other choice. “I was told to wait for further orders, and to stop... involving myself in more minor matters. The _Empire_ isn’t significant, to them. To _him_.” Her arms begin to ache, and she welcomes the pain, even if it’s not enough to truly banish any of her doubts. “I’m meant to sit and wait like a loyal hound until he acts, and then...” The thought of what comes after is strange and distant. Rkorya is sure she will not survive it, but she cannot guess why, or how.

She remembers her vision, her crew’s corpses scattered over the lifeless ground, the stars dimming out one by one. She remembers Voss too, the Emperor’s power pressing against his vessel’s skin, unfurling like it could drown the very planet.

“What have I done?” A hoarse whisper that she can barely recognize as her voice.

“Woah, hey... it’s not your fault. Serving the Emperor is the biggest honour around, right? It made you _happy_. No one can blame you –”

“I led us into this, Vette,” she says, raising her voice and cutting her off. “Not once, but twice, my loyalties have blinded me. I was warned, but I thought –” That she could use this power and rank to change the Empire for the better, defend it, kill its enemies. If the Emperor was aloof and so often silent and withdrawn, that only made it easier, didn’t it?

She had wondered why he had needed an enforcer, one so much weaker than him and kept separate from the Hand. Now, her suspicions are far more sharply honed.

“Baras I could stand against, kill when the opportunity arrived, but I – I cannot get us away from this.”

“Hey,” Vette says again, moving forward. “Yeah, okay, you messed up and the Emperor’s more bad news than you could have thought, and we’re... well, we’re all dead. That’s not _all_ on you. We had our own choices to make too.”

“If you could have known earlier, you would have left.”

“...Yeah.” It helps, somehow, that she admits it plainly. “But not without you. We might have had to... knock you out, or drag you away and keep you locked up for a year on Hoth, but you really think any of us would have just taken off and left you to do this alone?” She huffs, scornful and resigned and _fond_ despite everything. Even in the grip of so much guilt, so much _fear_ , Rkorya can’t help but admire the depth of her heart, the strength of her spirit. “So you trusted the wrong person. Even if you hadn’t... we’d still be in this mess, right? Whatever the Emperor’s planning, he was going to do it with or without you.”

She takes a deep breath, continuing more slowly. “And because you’re here, and it’s _you_... you’re going to try to stop him.”

“I have to, Vette. I don’t know how, or where to begin, but... I must.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... I believe you. That you really _do_ have to. If there’s anyone I’d bet on being able to do something about the fucking _Emperor_ , it’s you. But what I don’t get is why you think you’re going to have to do it alone.”

Rkorya pulls back a step, startled. Vette looks as serious as she’s ever seen her, and she can feel the fear flitting at the edges of her thoughts. She’s never been one to ignore the risks they’ve faced together, and while Rkorya could never put her meeting with the Emperor into proper words, it did not take a Sith to fear him and what he was capable of. Especially now.

“I was drawn into his schemes from the beginning. I _helped_ him, and by doing so risked the Empire, and all of you. As his Wrath...” The title, one she had been so _proud_ to carry, rings hollow now, and she grimaces as she says it. “It might as well be my duty to stop him. The rest of you are under no such obligation.”

Vette shifts, lekku moving in a quick flurry of motion that she can’t begin to interpret. “Yeah, but we _do_ have a duty too – and that’s to _you_ , even when you’re being stupid and selfless and scared and – and _awful,”_ she says, and Rkorya, taken aback by the fervour in her voice, isn’t remotely prepared for when she closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around her.

All her thoughts scatter. Vette holds on to her as if to an anchor, fiercely and without a care for the layers of Rkorya’s armour or the way she reflexively stiffens, tired instincts anticipating a threat until she forces herself to relax. The contact is enough to overwhelm the careful mental distance she keeps to most of the time, and Vette’s emotions crash through her, the aches and pulls of a heart that beats in counterpoint to her own.

It is worlds away from the wondering and careful affection she has shared with Lana, burns even brighter from time and unwavering trust. She lets it sweep into her, and the guilt and shame that had set their claws in her eases.

To think that she had been so convinced she could – had to – do this alone.

She returns the embrace clumsily, careful with each motion, and Vette snorts past her head. “It’s about time. I thought I was going to have to explain how hugs work. And maybe next time I’ll try this when you’re not packing a shield generator.” Her grip shifts, tightens again. “But if you ever say anything about leaving you like that again, I’ll... I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but you’re going to regret it for _months_.”

Her chest is tight, but she manages an amused huff. “So noted.”

“You should... tell the others, too. Though you’d be crazy to think they’d ever leave either. And –” Vette’s rambling, she realizes, on that brilliant edge of emotion where everything blazes up and runs over. “– and yeah, maybe you picked the worst people to follow, and every other Sith is pretty much insane, but there’s good things about how much you care, you know? It’s why we’re all here. I kind of – I wish you ended up with a leader who gave anywhere near as much of a shit about you as you do about us.”

That is one of the kindest things anyone could have told her, and she leans against Vette’s shoulder, at a loss for words.

Perhaps she picks up on her choked silence, because it’s not long before she forges ahead again. “So it’s fine if you’re worried, or scared, or just... not being the perfect Sith Lord for five seconds. Just let us _help_ , okay?”

It takes Rkorya a moment to realize that she is actually waiting for a response, or perhaps using that as an excuse to catch her breath. “If I agree, will you let me go, or shall I be dragging you around until we reach the Fleet?”

“Hey, no promises,” Vette says, though she’s not clinging as tightly now. “You don’t know how long it took to work up the nerve for this.”

She doesn’t have the focus to be sincere and witty both – she settles for one. “Then I promise – that I will depend on you, as you depend on me. Though I suspect I may need you more.” And hoarser, raw-voiced: “I truly don’t deserve you, Vette.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty amazing,” she murmurs. “But you know what? So are you.”


End file.
